


The First Day

by Penny_P



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 09:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19743199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_P/pseuds/Penny_P
Summary: Why did Chakotay accept the offer to serve as Voyager's First Officer?





	1. The Decision

**Author's Note:**

> I always felt the show missed an opportunity for character exploration in its early days. The decision for Chakotay and all the Maquis to decide to become regular crew members had to be difficult. This explores, a little bit, what went into that decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set immediately before the final scene of "Caretaker"

Chakotay faced the survivors of his crew, now shipless and prisoners on the _USS Voyager_. The emotion in the holodeck, where Captain Janeway had ordered them, was palpable. It was no wonder they were spooked; in the past seven days, they had been chased by Cardassians, pulled across the galaxy, abducted and probed by an alien, forced to fight for their lives and now completely dependent on the mercy of the Federation, in the person of Captain Kathryn Janeway. He was surprised and grateful that she had let them stay together in a holodeck simulation of a dormitory. Torres, the most battered of his crew, was lying down on one of the bunk beds. Most of the others were gathered around him, talking simultaneously.

"Where are we?"

"We can take this ship, there aren’t that many of them."

"What’s going to happen now?"

"What do we do?"

What do we do, indeed. "Everyone, settle down." He did not raise his voice, but they all quieted. And they all looked at him expectantly. Damn.

He looked around at the faces. Ayala, stoic and silent as usual. Suder, dark eyes lit with inner fire. Henley, looking simply scared. "I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But it’s a good sign that Captain Janeway put us here, instead of in the brig."

"The brig couldn’t hold us all," Seska said scornfully.

"Does this look like a brig to you?" he asked, perhaps more harshly than he intended. "She could have programmed a prison instead of this."

"Sorry. I suppose the guards outside the door are just housemothers." She smiled demurely, and he remembered again how dangerous her wit was.

"Symbols mean something," he continued, looking away from her to the others. "If she wanted us to feel like we are prisoners, she could have done better than this."

"Then what does it mean?" Jackson asked.

"I don’t know yet," he admitted, "but we’ll find out soon enough."

Torres rolled over in the bunk and looked at him for the first time. Propping herself on one elbow, she said, "Do you mean we’re just going to sit back and wait for Janeway to decide how to dispose of us? That’s ridiculous. We could take this ship, Chakotay. They’re under-manned and distracted."

"Stow it!" he said angrily. "Do you think thirty of us could run this ship? Face facts, Torres. All of you."

Further discussion was curtailed by an interruption from the comm system. "Mr. Chakotay," a familiar voice said, "I am coming in."

Captain Janeway entered, followed by Tuvok. She looked as if it had been a long time since her last break. There were lavender circles under her eyes, and smudges of soot or lubricant on her uniform. A thick strand of hair had come loose and dangled freely down her back. She clutched a padd in her right hand, in contrast to Tuvok, who held a phaser at the ready.

"Wait here," Chakotay said quietly to his people, and went to meet them. As he crossed the deck, he thought that she was either very brave, to come among prisoners who might well try to take her hostage with only one bodyguard, or very foolish. Or there was more security on this holodeck than was visible to the eye. After working with her against the Caretaker and the Kazon, he did not think she was foolish. "Captain Janeway."

"Are your people all right?"

That was not the phrasing he would choose, but he nodded. "Thank you for not putting us in the brig."

"There are 30 of you, Mr. Chakotay. Even after the close quarters on your ship, that would be just a little too crowded." She did not smile, but something in her eyes took any sting out of her words. "I’d like to talk with you, but I’m afraid I don’t have time to sit down. Will you walk with me?"

This was not a good sign, he decided. If she wouldn’t spare the time to sit down and discuss the situation, she had already made up her mind. Oddly, he felt disappointment. For some reason he had expected better of her. Refusing her request would not help anything, though, so he nodded his agreement and, with a quick warning glance over his shoulder aimed at Torres, he followed her through the access arch.

As they entered the ship’s corridor, he saw one reason why she had entered without fear. Two armed guards stood outside the entrance. One of them restored a forcefield in the doorway as soon as they cleared it. Janeway started down the corridor at a brisk pace, so that he had to stride to keep up with her. Tuvok followed about three paces behind, keeping the phaser pointed at his back.

"How is your crew reacting to our situation?" she asked him.

"As you might expect. Some are angry, some are confused. I think everyone is a little scared." A piece of conduit hung down from the ceiling, and without thinking he reached to move it out of her way. "It’s hard to believe that we’re 75 years away from home."

A young crewman in an Operations uniform dashed up to Janeway and extended her hand. She was clutching a padd tightly. "Captain, Lt. Carey asked that I get this to you right away. It’s the report on the EPS system."

Janeway took the padd along with the one she already held. "Thank you, Ensign, ah, Ballard. Did Mr. Carey give you any indication when the repairs might be complete?"

"Uh, I think he thinks it will take twelve hours, assuming we can keep the routing interface online. It’s being persnickety."

He thought that Janeway almost smiled at the girl’s description. "Tell Mr. Carey I appreciate his promptness. And have Mr. Kim come to Engineering as soon as he’s released from Sickbay. I understand he’s a good hand with persnickety computers." Then she dismissed the ensign with a nod and resumed walking.

Once again, he had to move quickly to match her pace. "You really took a beating."

Without turning her head, her eyes slid to look at him. "Nothing we can’t repair. Most of this is from the Caretaker’s transporter beam, or whatever it was. The Kazon did their share, though." She turned to the right so abruptly that he had to do a quick shuffle step to get back in line. "Just how angry are your people?"

The question struck him as particularly pointless, and his irritation showed in his voice. "I don’t know how to answer that. We have no ship, we’re prisoners, and we’re 75,000 light years from home. How angry do you think we are?"

In the corner of his eye, he saw Tuvok tense his body and move closer. Chakotay turned and faced him. "You can put that thing away, Tuvok. I’m not stupid enough to try anything when I’m alone in the middle of your ship."

"Desperation often overcomes logic in humans," Tuvok replied coolly, not lowering his weapon.

Janeway stopped and studied them both. After a moment she said, "It’s all right, Tuvok. Mr. Chakotay will not go back on his word now that he’s given it."

He looked at her warily. It was true, he would not, but how could she be so damned sure of him? "Should I be flattered that you trust me, or insulted that you think I pose so little threat?"

To his surprise, she smiled. "Oh, be flattered. If I thought you posed no threat, Tuvok would be on the bridge right now." She folded her arms across her chest. "We have a problem, Chakotay. I do not have the resources to keep 30 people in the brig for the next 75 years, and I will not spend that time wondering if a mutiny is imminent. If this ship is going to make it home, I have to be able to count on every member of the crew."

"You’re going to put us off." He didn’t bother to make it a question; it was what he would do in her place.

"That’s one option," she said. "And it may be the only one that is feasible. I had something else in mind, though."

Before he could react, they were interrupted by the comm system. "Sickbay to Captain Janeway." Chakotay recognized the voice of the EMH.

"Yes, Doctor." From her tone, he guessed that this was not her first conversation with the hologram that day.

"I have released all the patients from Sickbay. However, no one has deactivated my program yet. There are parameters on my maximum usage, you know."

"Yes, Doctor." She looked at Tuvok. "Send someone to deal with it. I don’t care who. Just get it done." Then she turned back to Chakotay. "Where was I?"

"You had something else in mind for my crew."

She nodded. "If we can agree to certain conditions, I would like to keep you and your people on board, as full members of the crew. We all have a better chance of getting home if we can combine talents and work together."

It was all he could do not to stare. This was the last thing he had expected from her, from any Starfleet captain. "What conditions?"

She turned and began walking again. "First, that everyone recognizes this is a Starfleet ship. Everyone will wear the uniform, follow orders, and recognize me as the commanding officer. If your people are too angry to commit to that, it won’t work."

He was astounded. In fact, the offer was so surprising that he could think only of reasons why it wouldn’t work. "Captain, only a handful of my crew has had any Starfleet training."

"I assumed that." As she passed a small work group huddled around the hatch to a Jefferies tube, one of crew handed her another padd which she accepted without breaking stride. She read it as she talked to him. "We’ll create a training schedule. It won’t be easy at first, but if everyone is really trying…damn. Tuvok, go back there and tell Thompson to get Jenny Delaney on his team. She’s knows that circuitry like the back of her hand. If everyone is really trying, Chakotay, we can make it work."

Chakotay glanced back at Tuvok. The Vulcan was definitely frowning, but he turned and trotted back toward the work party. He looked at Janeway again. Still walking, she had added the last padd to the others in her hand and was looking at him expectantly.  
"It would have to be real," he said. "Real responsibilities, equal treatment with your crew. Otherwise it won’t work."

"Absolutely," she said. They had reached the turbolift, and she hit the call button. "I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear. I’m a little rushed today."

No kidding, he thought. Where was her Exec? The captain should not have to deal with the direct reports of the repair teams.

"Will it work?"

He shook himself mentally. "Will it work? There’s one more big problem. The uniform."

She turned, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"The uniform. It’s symbolic." She was still looking at him blankly. "Captain, there is no more immediate and recognizable symbol of the Federation than the Starfleet uniform. And to most of my crew, the Federation stands for betrayal. I’m not sure all of them will be willing to put it on."

"Including you?"

He drew in his breath sharply. This conversation was taking him to places he hadn’t anticipated. "Perhaps. Maybe more for me than most of the others." He looked away, back down the corridor to the repair team that was talking to Tuvok with some animation. They looked, he thought, very young. "When I was a boy, Starfleet protected my planet. To me, they represented safety, and right. But when the Federation abandoned my people to the Cardassians, it destroyed everything I ever believed about it. When I look at that uniform now, it stands for betrayal. I’m not certain I can wear it again."

They stood for a moment, letting her consider his words.

"Kim to Janeway." The comm system again.

"Janeway here."

"Captain, we’re going to have to take weapons offline for about an hour. It’s the only way to repair the targeting system."

She looked at Chakotay with an expression that could be interpreted only one way – ‘if it’s not one damned thing, it’s another.’ A look that was usually shared by colleagues and friends, not a prisoner and his jailer. "Understood, Harry. Don’t go over an hour, though. We don’t know when the Kazon might pop up."

"Yes, ma’am – uh, Captain."

"And Harry," she added with a smile, "the Doctor made me promise not to work you to exhaustion. You’re not fully recovered yet. If you get tired, take a rest."

"Yes, Captain. I’m fine."

Tuvok returned then, and the turbolift doors opened. They all stepped in together. Janeway looked at Chakotay. "I’m sorry to hear that." It took a moment for his mind to harken back to the conversation before it had been interrupted. "Because it directly affects my second condition. Deck 15."

"Second condition?"

"Yes. You see-"

"Rollins to Janeway." Another interruption from the comm system.

"Yes, Mr. Rollins." Although Chakotay did not know her well, he could tell that her patience was beginning to wear thin.

"Captain, we can’t make heads or tails of the navigation board. Mr. Paris has offered to help."

She took a slow breath. "And the point of your call would be--?"

There was a slight hesitation before Rollins responded. Chakotay recognized the sound of an officer who knows he’s just made a mistake with his C.O. "Ah, I’m not exactly clear Mr. Paris’s current status."

"Mr. Paris," she said, biting her lower lip, "is currently a member of any repair team we assign him to. Should _I_ assign him, Mr. Rollins?

"No, ma’am," he said fervently. "I’ll take care of it."

Chakotay couldn’t stand it anymore. Maquis or not, his last Starfleet assignment had been as First Officer, and he knew this was not right. "Where the hell is your Exec?"

"Commander Cavit did not survive transit to this quadrant," Tuvok said.

"Which leads us to my next condition," Janeway said immediately. "I want you to be my First Officer, Mr. Chakotay."

The turbolift stopped and the doors opened, but he did not move. "I beg your pardon?"

She stepped into the corridor, looking over her shoulder at him. "You heard me."

If Tuvok hadn’t nudged him, he would have stayed on the turbolift to its next stop. Maybe longer. "I don’t understand."

"I need a First Officer, and you seem to be an ideal choice. You are the only officer on board with experience, and you had excellent ratings from Captain Graves during your stint as Exec on the Gettysburg." She looked at him closely. "More than that, it would be a powerful message to both our crews, that we are working together for a common goal."

He was completely floored. In the past few minutes the idea of being part of Voyager’s crew had flitted around in his mind, but never as part of the command team. It was more than generous, it was a remarkable show of faith. "Why?" he blurted out. "Why would you trust me?"

Janeway looked at her security chief. "Tuvok, give us a few minutes. We need to speak privately."

The Vulcan looked displeased. "As you wish, Captain." His tone left no doubt that he disapproved her action.

Janeway led him down the corridor and into a room with several tables and a large view port, probably a mess hall or observation lounge. She looked out at the sky. "Alien stars," she said softly. "When I was a girl, I dreamed of seeing alien stars, and new worlds. To go where no one has gone before."

He stood beside her, watching her rather than the stars. In the brief time he had known her, there had been no opportunity to observe her in a quiet moment. They had been forced to deal with one crisis after another. Now, though, in the silence of this empty room, she looked different but the difference was hard to define. Not exactly softer, but somehow more approachable. Almost vulnerable. It was amazing that she would trust him that much before securing his answer.

"I never imagined it would be like this, though." She smiled ruefully. "We’re on our own out here. No orders, no terms of engagement, and no back-up. It’s going to take all of our talent and determination, and a lot of luck, to make it home again."

She turned and looked him in the eye. "You sacrificed your ship for the greater good of us all. That tells me that you can see the bigger picture, not just the immediate needs of the moment. We worked well together on that planet. I think we would work well together on this ship.

"You asked me why I trust you. The answer is, I don’t know why, but the fact is I do. And since I don’t have the luxury of time, I’m going with my instincts on this. The question is, are you willing to do the same?"

He looked at her intently, trying to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. Fortunately, the comm system paged her at that moment.

"Nicoletti to Janeway."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Captain, we’ve got a problem with the replicators. We’re taking them offline."

The Captain pressed two fingers to her temple. "For how long?"

“We don’t know yet. At least eight hours. It looks like emergency rations for dinner tonight."

Chakotay listened to the conversation, watched the tension creep into Janeway’s face. In that moment, he had an epiphany.

All his life, he had been searching for a purpose. Other times he thought he had found it, first with Starfleet, then with the Maquis, but neither had truly satisfied him. Now, in an instant, he knew that this woman would get them home again, and he could help her do it. He felt that everything he had ever done in his life was in preparation for this opportunity. This was the first time he had ever felt such certainty.

And with the certainty, a sense of peace.

"I’m sorry," Janeway said, turning back to him. Her captain’s mask was back in place. "We won’t be able to get away from the interruptions. You probably would like some time to think it over, in any case."

"No. I don’t need any more time. I accept."

She blinked. "You do?"

"Yes. My crew may not come around as quickly, but they will." He smiled at her. It probably would be wise to consider all the ramifications of her offer, to confer with Torres and Bendera, possibly even his spirit guide. But he knew in his heart that his answer would be the same in an hour, or in a day. "Give me an hour or so with them, then we’ll be ready to join the repair teams."

She leaned back, looking at him in bemusement. "Don’t misunderstand, I’m pleased with your decision, but I didn’t expect it so quickly. Are you certain? Because my last condition is this, Chakotay. This has to be a good faith effort by all of us. If you use this as an opportunity to move against me, I will space the lot of you without a second thought."

He grinned. "I don’t doubt it. I give you my word, no insurrections. From here on, I’ll do my best to be a good Exec for you. We’ll get this ship home again."

Janeway smiled warmly. It was the first real smile he had seen from her, and it transformed her. She extended her hand. "It’s a deal, Commander. I’ll have your commission and assignment logged within the hour."

He clasped her hand, shook it. "Thank you, Captain."

They stood, smiling at each other for a moment. Then the comm system sounded again. "Tuvok to Janeway."

"The duty roster for tomorrow should be posted before the end of this shift. Do you wish me to prepare it?"

"No, she said, eyeing Chakotay as if they shared a joke. "The First Officer will take care of it."

"I take it the offer has been accepted."

"Yes," Chakotay said. "It has."

"Then, welcome aboard, Commander. I should like to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss ship’s security."

"Understood," Chakotay translated the request to mean that Tuvok intended to make it clear that he would be monitoring all of the former Maquis closely. "As soon as repairs are complete, we’ll schedule some time."

"A back to work cue if ever I heard one," Janeway said as she began walking. This time he did not have to sprint to keep up with her. "There is one other thing," she added. "I intend to make Tom Paris our chief helmsman. Will that pose a problem?"

From her tone, he knew the answer she expected. Whatever his personal feelings about the pilot, as First Officer he had other concerns. "Not for me." He remembered something Paris said earlier, about tribal customs and saving lives. "And I’ll take personal responsibility for his safety with the Maquis. Tribal custom – he saved my life."

Clearly pleased, she nodded. Just before the door opened, she placed a hand on his forearm. "Chakotay. I want this uniform to mean something good to you again. Trust, perhaps. And honor."

It was a shot aimed at his soul, and it struck accurately. "Thank you, Captain," he said quietly.

They stepped into the corridor, ready to begin the journey home.


	2. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally off duty on the first night aboard Voyager, the reality of the situation settles in.

Starfleet Sterile. That was the design style of his new quarters, Chakotay thought as he looked around. The rooms were spacious, equipped with enough furniture and equipment for comfort, but utterly devoid of character or personality. A visitor would have no idea whether this space was occupied by the late Lt. Commander Cavit or his unexpected replacement. Or Neelix the Talaxian, for that matter.

The Captain had told him to settle in and unpack. Unpacking consisted of folding the Maquis clothes he had been wearing when the _Liberty_ rammed into the Kazon ship and placing them in a drawer, a task which required all of ninety seconds. The replicators were still offline, so he could not even replicate a toothbrush. Looking around, he decided to return to the bridge. He was as unpacked and as settled in as he could be.

The door chime stopped him. "Come," he said, not bothering to see who it was. It didn't really matter.

Seska came in, carrying a small duffle bag. Her hair was pinned up, so tightly that it seemed to pull at the skin on her forehead, and the Starfleet uniform she wore didn't seem to fit. Or perhaps, he thought, it was just that she looked so uncomfortable in it.

Two steps in, she stopped and circled in place. "My god," she said, but whether she spoke in awe or in contempt, he could not tell. That was one of the most irritating – and fascinating – things about her: he could never quite tell what she was really thinking. "No wonder you agreed to be First Officer. This is bigger than the entire bridge on the _Liberty_."

With her usual acuity, she had struck exactly the point that bothered him the most. "It's not all personal space. I'll have meetings here, and other ship's business."

She laughed easily. "Relax, Chakotay. I'm just jealous. They've stuck me in with Ensign Golwat. She's a Bolian. Can you picture me living with a Bolian?"

He smiled before he could control it. The image of the stubborn and demanding Seska sharing quarters with a Bolian – a species with a rigid definition of cleanliness that differed from most humanoids – was almost funny. "I'm sure you'll do fine. You always were … particular."

"Very funny. I'd be offended if I didn't know that you are a secret slob." She went to the table that was intended to serve both as a desk and as an eating table. "Although that served you in good stead. I managed to grab a few things before you beamed us off the ship, and I didn't have to rummage through drawers to find them."

She opened the duffle bag and drew out his favorite shirt. "You're just lucky you left this on the floor," she said as she laid it across a chair. Then she reached in one more time, and handed him a hairbrush. "I thought you'd want this."

He took it almost reverently, almost in disbelief. It was an old-fashioned tool, made from wood and natural bristles. But the wood was from the live oak that grew in the back yard of his father's house and had been carved by his grandfather. It was the only memento of home he had carried with him to the Academy.

The tree, the house and the old man were all gone now, ashes on a world abandoned to the Cardassians.

"Thank you." It was all he could say.

Seska smiled, and for a moment he remembered how tender she could be when the mood struck her. Then something subtle, something indefinable, shifted in her expression and the tenderness was gone. In its place was the false brightness he had come to recognize as a disguise for self-interest. Flinching inside, he braced himself for what must be coming.

"I'll just put the rest of this in there." She closed the bag quickly and turned toward his bathroom.

"Wait a minute. What is the rest of that?"

Her eyes opened wider, all innocence. "Why, just a few things. It would be more convenient if I could leave them here."

Not again, he thought. Why do we have to go through this again. "You aren't leaving anything here, Seska."

Her head tilted, as if she didn't quite understand what he had said. "But… you know how you hate for me to use your things. It will be so much easier if –"

"No." He said it quietly, but with enough conviction that she could not doubt that he meant it. "It won't be necessary. The need will not arise."

She froze, not moving so much as an eyelash. Then the muscles of her face shifted slightly, just enough to hint that she was fighting to control a strong reaction. Her voice was taut with emotion. "You said it was because you were the captain. You _said_ it was because the captain can't be involved with a member of the crew. I understood that. But you aren't the captain here."

He had said those things, and they were true. But they had also been an excuse, an easy explanation that was less hurtful that the full truth. "I'm sorry, Seska. It's over. It's been over for a while."

Seska was never one for scenes; that was one of the things he had always admired about her. No matter what fate threw at her, she reacted with aplomb. This was no different. "Well," she said slowly, gathering her pride. "The way I see it, that's still to be decided. We're 75 years from home, Chakotay. That's a very long time." She picked up the duffle and headed for the door, then paused and looked over her shoulder. "A word of advice, though – don't wait too long. A girl doesn't like to be lonely."

It might have been a perfect exit, but as the door opened to let her leave, Kurt Bendera barged in with his usual bull-in-the-china-shop grace. He collided chest-on into Seska. "Oops! Sorry, Seskatoon."

Seska's mouth curled in disgust - she despised nicknames in general and that one in particular - but she said nothing. With a final icy glare at them both, she left.

"Whoa," Bendera said, looking at the door as it slid shut. "Did I interrupt something?"

"No." Then something made him add, "Although I think she hoped otherwise."

Bendera shook his head, his shoulder-length hair bouncing as if in emphasis. "You are a wise man, my friend. That is not a female for comfortable long term companionship."

The Contrary in Chakotay reared its head. Even though he agreed with that assessment, he felt compelled to argue. "You don't give her enough credit. She was thoughtful enough to get a few of my things off the ship." He raised the hairbrush, still in his hand.

"Great minds think alike, then." Bandera hefted a case on the table. "There was just enough time for me to grab this."

Chakotay recognized it immediately; it was the cushioned, wooden case he had picked up on Bajor. Stunned, he set the brush down and looked at his friend. "I don't believe it."

Bandera shrugged. "It's no big deal." He collapsed in a chair and put his feet up. "I tell you, old man, a cold brew would go down easy about now."

He ran his fingers over the case, pausing on the locks. After a second's hesitation he hit the controls and it popped open, revealing its contents. The medicine wheel that he had painted, painstakingly and under the laughing supervision of his friends, on a leather hide; the river rocks from his homeworld that he had taken from the ruins of his planet and carved; and most amazing of all, his akoonah and medicine bundle. He had written them off as lost, and resigned himself to replicating facsimiles. He touched the bundle as if he did not quite believe his eyes. "Kurt…" His voice trailed off. There was no adequate way to say thank you.

Bandera shrugged. "You were busy at the time." Then he leaned forward. "Chakotay, what's going on? I mean really going on. Are you serious about following Janeway's orders, or are you planning something?"

Cold reality intruded on the moment. He shut the case firmly. "I meant it. We're part of this crew now. No mutiny, no insurrection. Have you got a problem with that?"

"Not me. At least, not now." He leaned back again and propped his hands behind his head. "Damn, these are good chairs. You should see what I'm stuck with. No, it took a while but I finally realized that we are seventy-effing-five years from home. We'd never make it alone. We've got to work together or we'll die in this godforsaken place."

Chakotay nodded. "I'm glad you see it that way. I know it won't be easy, but it's the only way we'll get home. And I owe it to Ayala and the others with families to get them back."

"Forget them." Bandera grinned. "You owe it to me. I may not have a wife and kiddies missing me, but there are half a dozen sweet young things who will notice that I'm not around." Then he stood. "If you haven't got any beer, I'm outta here. Tuvok's got me on the graveyard shift, and I need a couple hours of shut-eye."

"Rain check." Hopefully, the replicators would be operational again the next day. "And Kurt – keep your eyes open, will you? Let me know if any of the others decide to take matters into their own hands."

Bendera's eyebrows shot up. "You want me to spy on our own people?"

"I want you to help me head off trouble before Tuvok notices it."

"That I can do." With a final cocky grin, he left.

Chakotay looked at the table. He had more unpacking to do. It took about a minute to fold the shirt Seska brought and put it in a drawer; another thirty seconds to take the hairbrush to the bathroom. The case, the case that held his most treasured possessions, he slid under his bed. Another 45 seconds used up.

He glanced at the chronometer. 2210. There was probably no point in returning to the bridge now; the shifts would be changing soon, and he should at least try to sleep before alpha shift began. He needed to be fresh when he reported for duty. The problem was he didn't feel like going to sleep.

A shower might help. Sonic showers weren't exactly relaxing, but it was easier to sleep clean than with the sheen of the day's labors still clinging to his skin. He was about to head that direction when his door chime sounded. More than half expecting it to be Torres, he said, "Come in."

When Captain Janeway walked in, he felt his jaw start to drop but caught it in time. "Captain. What a surprise."

She smiled, and set a small case on his table. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, Commander.

"Not at all."

"Good. It occurs to me, there is something we have overlooked." She reached into the case and pulled out two small tumblers, then removed a bottle of a pinkish liquid. "Traditionally, this ought to be whiskey but I'm afraid we'll have to make do with Altair water. With the replicators still offline, it's the best I can manage."

He came over to the table, confused. "I don't understand."

She poured a generous amount of liquid into each of the glasses. "It's a tradition, older than Starfleet, I think." Then she handed him a glass and kept one for herself. "I didn't know your ship as well as you did, but I know she was nimble, and yar."

He felt his own heart turn over. He had deliberately put off thinking about his ship. "She had heart. Whenever I thought she had given us everything she had, she gave a little more."

She raised her glass, and her eyes met his, one captain to another. "To the _Liberty_."

"The _Liberty_ ," he agreed, and they both downed the liquid. The Altair water was bitter, almost as shocking as whiskey would have been, but he swallowed it all in one gulp.

So, he saw, did she. Then she turned her glass upside down on the table. "In other circumstances, I'd toss it against the wall, but we need the recycler credits."

"Consider them tossed," he said, and turned his glass upside down beside hers.

She nodded, and picked up the container. "Good night, Commander. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night." She was almost to the door when he added, "Captain Janeway."

She turned, looked at him expectantly.

"Thank you."

A smile spread slowly across her face, finally illuminating it fully. He felt his breath catch in his chest; it took a moment to return the expression. She said nothing, but nodded, and then left.

He stood for a moment, feeling almost dizzy. Well, why not? he finally asked himself. It's been a day. It's been a helluva day.

The first day of the journey.

-the end-


End file.
